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Poem by David Sillar
Money Makes the Mare to Go
Tune, Colonel Montgomery’s Strathspey. I. Were I, wha am not o’ the class, At liberty to wale a jo, I’d choose a rich an’ wealthy lass Since money makes the mare to go. CHORUS I’ve aften heard the sage advice, Poor fock shou’d be content; but who Wou’d buy content at such a price, When money makes the mare to go? II. What fignifies the force o’ love! An’ beauty sweet, what can it do? Beauty an’ love rich fock may move, While money makes their mare to go. I’ve aften heard, &c. III. A bonny lass, I own’s a charm; When gaily clad, ye beauty sho’; But what does’t fair, if Poortith storm; ’Tis money makes the mare to go. I’ve aften heard, &c. IV. Were I for life to wale a wife, Tae keep me free frae care an’ woe, I’d choose ane rich, a foe to strife, An’ then I’d mak the mare to go. I’ve aften heard, &c. V. If poor fock think I’ve o’er much greed, Or mercy nane hae them tae show, I tell them plain, thro’ want an’ need, My mare’s sae poor she scarce can go. I’ve aften heard, &c. VI. But if that fortune wad ordain A competence on me to flow, They’d never mair hear me complain; Rejoicing with my mare I’d go. I’ve aften heard, &c. VII. Thus hae I sung mysell tae rest, Tho’ richer I am not a straw; Wi’ what I hae I’ll do my best; My mare, tho’ poor, thro’ life maun go. I’ve aften heard, &c.
David Sillar's other poems:
English Poetry. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org